Falling slowly
by CBCstories
Summary: Peter finds himself in a bit of a predicament. He has fallen from a collapse building and time is ticking for his own survival.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey there! This is my first one shot so emm... yeah. I am having insomnia for the second day in a row and I'm frustrated so I decided to write to pass the time and came up with this.**_

_**English is not my first language so excuse me for any errors. **_

_**Disclaimer: I own no character in this story, just the story itself.**_

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**Falling slowly**

The fall was unstoppable, no time for him to react as he felt his body moving through the air down to his own doom. He wanted to press his boots to try and stop the fall from even happening, but the debris over him was already pushing him downwards and nothing could stop it.

He acknowledged he was in deep trouble as soon as he landed. Pain exploded deep within his body as his legs collided with something. His body tensed as it was pushed backwards exposing every vital organ to the falling objects, his arms wide open as his head collided with the solid ground beneath and everything went black.

It was supposed to be a nice relaxing day. Five friends sharing an alcoholic beverage – or a nonalcoholic one if they preferred – in an old and rusty place Rocket knew was supposed to be awesome, but their attention was taken from their drinks when an overwhelming scream of panic reachesdtheir ears and of course, who else would run as fast as their feet could go if not the Guardians of the Galaxy?

They had arrived at the site easily enough as an entire crowd had gathered uselessly around it. They were screaming for help, but none of them dared to move a muscle twardso the collapsing building.

It seemed that the structure was meant to be blown away by some sort of powerful rich creature, but the tears in a mother's eyes told Peter that they had forgotten to explain it to the tenants, like they always did.

They had almost 20 minutes to get everyone out of the building. The walls already breaking from the first explosion, making it hard to see from the particles in the air, but Peter's mask allowed him to enter easily and find at least 6 different aliens stuck between fear and panic. He was almost out with the last one when he had heard someone call. It was almost a whisper, nothing to actually get anyone's attention, but Star-Lord was not anyone, so he turned to the blackness and allowed his gut to guide him to the last victim: the mother's child.

He quickly grabbed her, but there was no time to get out. He knew he had to do something in the lines of stupidity as time was ticking and the bombs would explode with no disregard for the lives inside. He swallowed hard before smiling wildly at the child, making sure she knew that somehow, everything was going to be alright.

Time stretched for his own luck as he shared a look with Gamora, who was at the opening, before she knew what he intended to do. Fear crossed her eyes, but he had already decided this was the way to go. He pushed the little girl from his chest, threw her towards Gamora and before they could even move an explosion had happened a few meters from Peter and down he had gone to his own secluded death.

The world flared red around him when consciousness came back with a kick. The air was dusty and it was hard to breathe, but it only took him a second or two to replay the last moments before he realized he was in deep shit.

Maintaining some sort of composure was hard when you are stuck in the collapsed structure of a building, but Peter managed to do so, because how on Earth was he ever going to get the hell out of there if it wasn't by his own two hands? His friends were not stupid enough to get themselves into any danger to save his own sorry ass, so he had to remain calm if only for his own selfish sake.

First thing first: assessment. He could breathe easily enough, which meant his chest was not compressed by any sort of object, which was good for most of his vital organs were logged there. Moving his right arm was easily enough, but his left was trapped. The pain of the stress and weight making it impossible to rotate or move even an inch, but he was not worried about a dead limb, because the searing agony he experienced each time he tried to pull it out was enough to make him understand his nerves were intact and on fire.

_Okay, nothing broken yet, that's good enough. _

He tried breathing again, tried to hear anything but the tingling noise in his head. Probably a concussion of some sort to add to his assessment. He closed his eyes for a second, his heartbeat almost controlled by pure willpower. He was not going to panic, Star-Lord never panics.

He opened his eyes again and realized there was just a bit of light around. He could see a ray of light making its way from upstairs and he followed it to a very grim view. His right leg was literally impaled by a big rusty metallic pole, but he could at least move his foot, which was sort of nice.

He swallowed hard as he tried to push his body into a better position but the pain in his leg and arm made it impossible for him to do anything but lift his chest a bit from the ground. He could feel his muscles tensing, his blood pouring from the hole, only contained by the damn pole that had made the hole in the first place and his bones trying to maintain everything where it should be.

He pushed the vile out of his throat as it tried to rise, because there is nothing worse than the smell of mixed blood and vile to add to his precarious situation.

How the hell was he supposed to get out of this one? He asked himself that same question a bunch of times before his own mind yelled at him for being so reckless and get into this situation in the first place.

He was tired, he really was. His eyelashes dropping without his own command as he tried to make a plan, because that's what he did: make plans in the spur of the moment. He was good at it when he was inside the Milano, in a comfortable place with no pain whatsoever, but he was also good at them when they were in the middle of battle and lives depended on him, so he should be able to do it when he was in the middle of a life threatening situation himself, right?

Okay… so… he swallowed hard as he tried to push his body again. His energy was dropping scarily quickly, but his mind pulled that thought away as he focused on a more important task. He bit his lip as blue eyes stared at the pole stuck in his leg. It had entered at his thigh from left to right. Blood had already coagulated around it, so it was even more stuck than Peter had suspected. Fuck. It was only a few centimeters he needed to push to get his leg free but the thought of bleeding out due to having cut an artery made him wonder if it was the right thing to do.

But what else could he actually do? His intercom was broken, so there was no way to communicate with the others and even if he did, what was he supposed to do? Beg them to get his sorry ass out of this jam? No, he was getting out of here without having Rocket reminding him of it for the rest of his life, thank you very much.

He gritted his teeth and placed his right hand as good as he could over his right thigh and for a second he believed he could do it, but as soon as he pulled his willpower crushed from the pain exploding through his body. He heard himself scream in such a manner that bounced on the walls and back to him almost instantly and it lasted longer than he would have imagined it to.

There was no way of getting out of here on his own. He needed his team and even though he trusted them, he also feared for their safety. Trying to save a captain was not something he had ever read on his midnight stories with his mother. It was rather the other way around: a captain never left a man behind. They would go to the extreme to aid their fellow companion, but how could he when he was barely able to lift his own leg?

– "If you are up there, now is the time to move, guys…"– he whispered and realized how tired his voice sounded. He wasn't getting enough oxygen in this rotten hellhole and he feared it would soon be his last.

He watched the dust danced in front of him as it was lighted up by the ray of light. He smiled at the beauty of it: there is always beauty, even in the worst scenarios. He smiled, if only to himself, and tried to relax. He was not going to allow his body any real rest, for it would mean crossing the line from this world to the other, but he could stop moving for a couple of seconds while his mind worked out another useless plan.

Suddenly, there was a scream. A vague idea of a scream if he was honest about it, but it seemed to be real, not a sick joke from his own desire to be rescued. He swallowed hard and counted to three before opening his tired eyes. There was a shadow on the top of the debris and he smiled.

– "Took you long enough…" – he tried to reply, but his voice was weak and it barely came out as a whisper.

– "Peter are you there?" – the yell was filled with concern and Peter really wished he could yell back at her that he was fine, that he was glad they had come back to rescue him and that everything would be alright. But he couldn't.

His chest contracted painfully as he realized that being safe was a long way from this moment, but at least, if the worst happened, he was not going to die alone.

–"Pete, we are coming down!" – he heard the continuing screams telling him he was fine, but the warm blood on his cold fingers told him otherwise.

No, he was not going to die. He wanted to survive this and have another scar on his already marked body so he could tell the story to another bimbo or friend, whoever decided to listen. He wanted to survive because, fuck, who the hell wants to die anyway? So he nodded, in the dark dusty clouded place he nodded, because he was not going to surrender to the grief and tiredness, because Star-Lord was not going to die due to a damn pole.

It took them some time to get down there. Rocket being the first to arrive, for he was the one that weight less and could move easily around the small area Peter found himself in. After the small mammal had placed foot on the ground he had stopped babbling about how stupid Peter was and had swallowed hard.

Fuck, maybe this was as serious as he had thought.

– "Hey…" – Peter smiled as best as he could, but a groan escaped his lips before he had a chance to detain it.

Rocket sighed and pushed a hand over Peter's lips to shut him up. He needed to think and fast because if he didn't, then Peter was as good as dead.

–"Only you can be stupid enough to get yourself in this sort of mess. What were you thinking?!" – he yelled as he jumped to assess Peter's trapped arm.

–"Wasn't…" – he replied – "You know me, act first, think later…. or something like that." – he closed his eyes as another wave of dizziness shook his body.

– "Yeah well…" – but as he turned horror crossed his eyes – "Wow there Pete! No sleepin' time. You ain't leaving me in this shit hole by myself!" – he rushed to his injured friend's face and placed both paws on his cheeks. They were cold and he seemed whiter than usual. Cold sweat was already forming in his brows, which meant they barely had time to act.

– "Ye…ah… not… asleep, dude… restin" – came the slurred answer, but it was an answer none the less.

– You better not be, or I'll kick your ass." – he responded before whispering something to an intercom.

Peter smiled again as he knew he was going to be fine. Screw his leg, screw his arm, he was alive and before he knew it, he was going to be out of there and back to his beloved Milano, because if he was sure of something. it was that his team was there and he was finally safe.

**THE END**

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**I thought of making it a two-shot with the aftermath, but I don't know. I guess it depends on you readers.**

**Thanks for taking your time to read this and I'll see you soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, so this is part 2 of the one-shot now two-shot and the end of the story. Thanks for reading and I hope you like it!**

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**Chapter 2**

Saying that Peter Quill, aka Star-lord, was reckless was an understatement. He would often act before thinking and lead to his own body having to deal with the consequences and if someone didn't believe him, well, he had the marks to prove them wrong. Sometimes he would say most where from women, because it was easier than explaining the stupid actions he often chose in a split of a second, but sometimes it was impossible to actually pretend they were casualties from some random romantic night.

They had witness a few times when Peter had decided his life was the last in the row of saving. He had often injured himself saving their asses and would often say it was nothing and scratched the back of his head with a laugh. Yes, that was the kind of captain the Guardians of the Galaxy had, so when Gamora saw those blue eyes staring at her, she knew… he was going to do something stupid and reckless again.

She really wanted to scream and hit him, she really did, but the little girl on her arms squished the air out of her lungs and before she had a chance to do so, he was gone. Time stopped as she watched the hole he had gone through. Nothing, not even a scream or a tear, got out of her as she held the little girl in her arms. She needed to be strong and deliver the girl to her mother, because if Peter was dead, then that was his last wish: for her to be safe.

She pushed her own thoughts and pain out of the way as she moved out of the collapsing building. She left the girl with her mother and then turned to her friends, her teammates that stared at her with questions written all over their faces, but what could she say? That Peter had done another stupid stunt that had landed him meters down the building to his possible death?

She shook her head, time was ticking and they needed to do something about it. If it only meant finding his body, then at least he could rest somewhere decent.

She explained everything quickly as she pushed her body towards the building again. Rocket's eyes opened in shock and Groot placed a hand over his opened mouth with scared eyes. Drax just looked at her stunned, but was the first to follow because he was **not** going to let someone else die on his watch.

–"Can you see him?" – Rocket asked, but Gamora shook her head.

They had gotten to the site, but the place was worse than before. A few walls had broken making it difficult to remember where Peter had fallen. She swallowed hard as she tried to remember, but her mind was a mixture of regret and panic, which was not helping.

– "This way…"– she whispered, but was not really sure.

They moved slowly as they didn't want another one to fall to their death. They kept screaming and screaming, their throats burning from the use, but they were greeted with nothing back, but silence.

– "You sure it was here?" – Rocket asked as he coughed from the dust in the air.

– "Yes…" – she whispered back, but she was not really sure. What if he was somewhere else and they were wasting time? What if he was in pain and they were just walking around slowly as if they were having a nice time in a park?

Rocket swallowed hard with the same troubled thoughts Gamora was having and hoped deep within his soul that his friend was alright.

Suddenly, Gamora stopped and smiled. She knew this part of the building and right now she was completely certain that they were on the right place. She moved her legs quickly, almost forgetting about the debris around her and stopped at a big hole.

The hole was dark and she could not see down there, but she was sure Peter was there.

– "Peter are you there?" – the yell was filled with concern, but her voice was stable. She tried to hear him, but there was no reply. Rocket seemed to want to say something, probably to go somewhere else, but her gut was screaming to her: Peter was down there.

–"Pete, we are coming down!" – she yelled and turned to Rocket, who raised an eyebrow at her while crossing his arms over his chest. –"Do not tell me you are not going, because if you do, I'll throw you myself." – she narrowed her eyes carefully.

Rocket rolled his eyes and sighed.

–"Yeah, yeah, leave the dirty work to me…"– he complained, but started preparing to get down towards Peter.

Minutes passed as Gamora watched Groot move Rocket gently into the hole and down towards their friend. She heard Rocket talking to someone and smiled, so Peter was down there… good.

She waited impatiently as Rocket moved Peter up the hole. What was taking so long?! She wanted to scream at the damn mammal, but she kept silent. She heard Peter scream and Rocket yelling again before Peter stopped. She swallowed with fear.

–"Rocket, is everything okay?" – she yelled.

– "Stupid human passed out on me!" – he yelled back, but the tone he was using was not annoyed as he wanted it to sound, but filled with concern.

Groots arms were useful in this situation as he hugged Peter in them and began the ascent. She cringed at the pain groans and yells from her friend, who was still unconscious. She stared at the blood around Peter's leg and wished she had not seen it.

The smell was metallic and hurt her nose as she remembered a lot of things from it. She shook her head and placed a hand over Peter's bangs before moving to the exit. Groot had Peter on his arms and quickly followed. Drax and Rocket behind.

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A couple of hours passed before they were let to Peter's room. They had taken him to the healers quickly and they had taken him for hours.

Rocket paced around the waiting area for the entire time while Gamora stayed still watching the door where she knew Peter was, or should be. Groot stayed silent sitting down next to Drax, who kept talking about random facts and stories about how he had killed or injured people to the point of being known at healer's places.

The wait was horrible, they were not used to waiting and they didn't like not knowing what was happening to their friend.

Rocket had told them about what had happened in the hole: the pain expression of Peter's face, how he had tried to say he was going to die there and how sad and distant everything seemed from reality. He had shut down then and stopped speaking, and Gamora knew the only way to get him out of there was to see their friend again.

Finally, the healers had told them to approach a door where Peter was. They pushed it gently and saw their friend sleeping on a comfortable bed with his leg out of the sheets and bandaged. She swallowed hard as she stepped inside and waited for the rest to go in.

The healers spoke to them about the blood loss, the need for rest and the stitches. Gosh, that was going to hurt. They also needed to see if Peter had a concussion from the fall, but they could only tell when he woke up, which no one knew when would actually happen.

They stayed there for a couple of hours before they started doing shifts. They would stay two at a time while the others went to the Milano or ate something. The wait was horrible and they could barely shut an eye.

It was after three hours that he finally moved. Gamora and Rocket were inside both sitting on chairs that were brought to them. They had been sitting there for a while now when suddenly they saw his eyelids tilting a bit. Gamora stood carefully and Rocket rose to stand on the bed besides his friend.

– "Peter?" – Gamora asked gently.

Peter was not in as much pain as he thought he should have been in. He wondered if this was what being dead meant: feeling better than when you were alive. He tried to open his eyes, but they were tired and he felt as if he had gained a hundred pounds in just a few seconds.

_Fuck this was not a good way to wake up…_

He tried to remember where he was and suddenly everything came back: the little girl, the building, the metallic pole on his leg… shit, maybe he was really dead.

– "Peter?" – Gamora asked again.

Wait… if Gamora was there then maybe he was not dead? He had given the little girl to her, so there was no way she was dead too, right? He opened his eyes slowly and smiled as he saw two faces he had grown to love.

– "Hey…"– he replied with a sore throat. He coughed a bit before a cup of water was placed near his face, one he took eagerly. –"Did I miss much?" – he asked with a smile.

Rocket finally realized Peter was going to be fine and glared at his friend.

– "Not because of your own doin', that's for sure!" – he yelled – "What were you thinkin' doin' somethin' like that?! Next time I ain't helpin' ya."

Peter laughed tiredly and nodded.

– "Yeah… not the best idea of my life…" – he whispered –"…and I worry about you too, Rocket."

– "Who said anything about worryin'?" – he replied without looking at Peter directly.

– "It's good to see you're back." – Gamora whispered. – "But you will be in a lot of pain for a while, so you will need to rest…"

– "Yeah, yeah… thanks… and remind me next time not to blow myself up…"– he laughed a bit before he fell asleep again.

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It took two more days for Peter to leave the healers. They had tried to make him stay for longer, but Peter was not one to stay put like that. He had countered all their arguments and finally won when they realized he was not going to shut up and stay.

Groot had helped him limp to the Milano – no, he was not going to be carried there, thank you very much – and was left on a chair while his music was heard all around.

He smiled as he closed his eyes. Yes, this was perfect. He was back to his baby with his music and not in a boring room where he could barely move. Yes, he was in pain and he always flinched when he moved his leg, but he could deal with it. He was home.

– "You okay?" – Gamora asked as they got into space.

– "Uh-hu" – he smiled.

– "You know… you had us all worried, Peter. You should not do that." – she tried to convince him, but he just rolled his eyes at her.

– "Yeah well, next time I'll try to be more careful."

– "There will be a next time?"

– "Of course! I mean, I can't be Star-Lord if I don't do any heroic acts from now and then." – he smugly grinned at her before she stood and moved to leave. He looked at the window and the vast universe before adding almost in a whisper –"And besides, I know you have my back…"

Gamora stopped on the door and smiled. Yes, even though Peter Quill was reckless and stupid he was their captain and friend and they would always have each other's back.

**THE END**


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